Kame Island Romance: The Article
by koinekid
Summary: Part of an anthology series of ways Krillin and Eighteen could have become a couple. Set during the gap between the Cell Saga and Great Saiya-man arcs. Suggestions welcome. In this story, Eighteen pursues Krillin by following advice she reads in a magazine article. Meanwhile, Krillin decides to make a bold move of his own.
1. The Article, Part 1

_Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **Kame Island Romance**

 **By koinekid**

 **1\. The Article**

 _ **Part 1**_

The magazine was an impulse buy as Eighteen did the weekly grocery shopping—her preferred chore as a member of the Kame Household since it combined her favorite activity with the ability, when deviating from Oolong's prepared shopping list, to decide what she and her roommates ate for dinner. The magazine's glossy cover boasted an article on twenty-five activities for budget-minded couples.

She thumbed through the pages as the clerk rang up her purchases. A throat clearing reminded her the magazine needed to be scanned as well. The annoyance in the clerk's face had Eighteen considering how easy it would have been to push the cart out of the store without paying and flip off anyone who tried to stop her. Old habits and all.

Instead, she angled the magazine so its UPC label was visible, forcing the clerk to resort to her handheld scanner: Male clerks usually did so without complaint, but the female ones gave her attitude.

The clerk announced the total, and Eighteen handed over Roshi's credit card. She stuffed the receipt into one of the bags and reluctantly did the same with the magazine before retrieving a capsule from her pocket. A group of bag boys groaned their disappointment at not being permitted to help the beautiful blonde with her bags.

Eighteen rolled her eyes. Did they think she would fall madly in love with the one who pushed her cart for her?

She returned the full capsule to the pocket of her denim vest and snapped it shut before walking outside. At a suitable distance from the store—for some reason, her new friends insisted they all hide their powers from ordinary people—she took to the sky.

The old perv would give her an earful about charging the magazine to his credit card when she got home. "That card is to be used for essentials only," he would exclaim, though the genuine source of his upset would be her continued refusal to pick up his pornography when she did her shopping.

Roshi's yelling amused her. True, she could roast him alive at a whim, but they both knew she wouldn't. And the fact that he was willing to yell meant he considered her part of the family. It was a welcome change from his and Oolong's cowering after she first accepted Krillin's invitation to move in.

 _Krillin._ The mere thought of the little man made her smile. After less than a year on the island, she could no longer imagine life without him. He was the first of his friends to treat her as a person rather than a machine, and when she was with him, sometimes—just for an instant—she forgot she was a cyborg and felt almost normal.

He was a true friend, though lately, the feelings she harbored for him went beyond friendship. But had she arrived at those feelings too late? Long ago, she overheard Krillin's friends tease him about having a crush on her. Embarrassed, she loudly proclaimed in front of everyone that his actions that day hadn't won her heart. Perhaps time or her own big mouth had soured him on the prospect of a romance with her. She hoped not.

The island with its small pink house came into view, and she spotted Krillin out front, clearing the beach of debris washed up during a recent storm. He took aim at a nearby piece of driftwood, and she startled him by blasting it first.

Though taken aback, he grinned as she lighted beside him.

"Hey, Shorty."

"Hi, Blondie."

Krillin showed spirit today. Normally, he didn't tease back.

"Are the others here?" she asked.

"Nope, just you and me. And Turtle, of course."

The ancient sea turtle that frequented the island lay near the front door. She nodded to it absently. If the old man were gone, he wouldn't know about the magazine. Good, one less headache. She turned back to Krillin. "Help me put away the groceries?"

"Okay."

When he cleared a spot on the kitchen counter, Eighteen triggered the capsule's release, causing the bags to appear. They worked slowly, chatting all the while. It would be more efficient to divide the dry goods from the refrigerated and work them separately, but Krillin's way of choosing a bag at random and handing her an item at a time led to more interaction and more than a few "accidental" touches. She liked Krillin's way.

Still, it would be best to unpack the bag containing the magazine herself. The last thing she needed was for him to discover it and start asking questions before she was ready. Now, which bag was it?

"Hey, you bought my favorite cereal."

She shrugged. "It was your turn."

"That's what you said last time."

"I won't tell if you…" The bag with the cereal—that's where she stashed the magazine. "Krillin, why don't you let me—?"

"Twenty-five activities for budget-minded couples?" He raised his eyes from the glossy cover and looked at her curiously.

Eighteen could feel the blush rising in her cheeks as she snatched the magazine away. "I, uh—"

The front door opened with a bang, diverting Krillin's attention. Into the house stumbled two stacks of magazines with legs—Roshi and Oolong laden down with armfuls of what Eighteen assumed to be the pornography they nagged her to buy. She used the distraction to slip from the room unnoticed while Krillin took pity and asked just what their roommates thought they were doing.

" _Someone_ forgot to bring capsules," Oolong growled.

Roshi's protest—"We wouldn't need to worry about capsules if Krillin's girlfriend picked up the magazines for us"—was the last thing she heard before reaching the top of the stairs.

 _Krillin's girlfriend, eh?_ If they called her that behind her back, there could be hope for a romance yet, and somewhere in this article just might be the key to igniting it. She tapped the magazine against her chin. Time to start reading.

* * *

"Do you think Eighteen is seeing anyone? She has to be, right? Why else would she want to read about couples' activities?"

Yamcha sighed. Every Wednesday that his baseball team wasn't on the road, he and Krillin sparred on one of the islands near Kame House. Ordinarily, it was the highlight of Yamcha's week, but today his friend couldn't stop talking about that magazine.

"Maybe she bought it for a different article. Magazines generally print more than one an issue."

"Then, why did she blush when I read the title of _that_ article?"

"You got me there." Yamcha readied an energy blast and sent it toward Krillin, who easily swatted it aside, much to the taller man's annoyance. "Eighteen is a beautiful woman. Did you expect her to stay celibate forever?"

"No," Krillin said, "but I figured she would move out before she started dating. Then I wouldn't have to _see_ her with another guy."

"Do you want her to leave?"

"Of course not. The island is her home. I just…" Krillin kicked at the dirt. "How would you feel seeing someone else dating the woman you—oh, right. Sorry, bro. I didn't think—"

"I'm way over that, Krillin." That wasn't strictly true, but Yamcha thought it best to limit their conversation to one lovesick martial artist at a time. It might be too late for him and Bulma, but Krillin still had a shot with Eighteen. _I won't let you go through the same thing I did, even if I have to knock some sense into you to stop it._

Yamcha surged forward and threw a barrage of punches that knocked the distracted Krillin onto his back, then held out a hand to pull him to his feet.

"She isn't your girl, you know."

Krillin sighed. "Yeah, guess I'm just dreaming, huh?"

"No, you aren't. Eighteen isn't with you because you haven't made a move. So, what if she is dating another guy? I bet if you asked her out, she'd drop him in a heartbeat."

Krillin brightened. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. After everything you've done for her—"

"She doesn't owe me anything, Yamcha."

"I know, I know. I just mean that she already knows you're a great guy. Even if she doesn't think of you romantically now, telling her how you feel will plant the seed. And—worst case scenario—if she doesn't want to go out with you, at least she'll keep the guys she dates away from the island. She's your friend if nothing else and wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Shouldn't she already know how I feel? She was at the Lookout when I told you guys I like her."

"Eighteen isn't exactly normal."

Anger flashed in Krillin's eyes, and Yamcha felt a flicker of fear. "T-take it easy. I'm not belittling her for being a cyborg. But you said she doesn't remember anything from before Gero modified her, right?"

Krillin nodded. "Not much, anyway."

"That means he wiped out whatever dating experience she had. Chances are, she doesn't even know how to interpret the signals you're sending her."

"You think Eighteen can't tell I'm interested."

"Yeah, bro, you need to spell it out for her. If you treated most girls half as well as you do Eighteen, they'd know. But ten-to-one she's oblivious. Plus, she's pretty, and guys will fall all over themselves to help a pretty girl. Heck, I'm tempted to hold doors for her myself."

"She'd break your hand if you tried."

Yamcha grinned. "But not yours."

A smile tugged at the corners of Krillin's mouth. "No, not mine."

"You're in, man. Ask her out. Look, there's this physical therapist I've been flirting with. We could double."

Krillin looked as if he were about to panic.

Yamcha held up his hands. "Okay, okay. That's too much. How about a group thing?"

"Maybe." Krillin nodded again. "But Eighteen and I have gone to parties together. How's this any different?"

"We'll make it more intimate and invite only couples."

"That…could work."

"Good, let's head back, and you can ask her now. What? It isn't as if you'll give me a decent workout until you get this sorted anyway."

* * *

After escaping the kitchen, Eighteen locked herself in her room and worked through the article with a red marker, pausing only to watch from her window as Yamcha arrived to pick up Krillin for their weekly training session. Why didn't Krillin spar with her? She'd certainly make a better partner than some weakling who gave up martial arts to play games for a living. _Probably because you never asked,_ came her mind's response. _True,_ she conceded.

A box fan propped in her window circulated a cool breeze through the room. It was no hotter than usual indoors, but the noise drowned out the sound of her roommates stomping around on the first floor. Eighteen sat at her desk and twirled the marker between her fingers as she read:

 _Shared interests lead to couples spending more time together and engaging in livelier conversations. And the best part is that it doesn't take a boatload of zeni for you and your sweetheart to have a good time. Here are 25 activities that won't break the bank!_

That sounded good to her. She could barely scrape together a pocket full of zeni, much less a boatload. Unless she absconded with the old man's credit card or returned to a life of crime, whatever activity she chose would need to be cheap. Or better yet, free.

The article's first suggestion— _gardening_ —was out. They lived on a tropical island with limited real estate, so unless they wanted to plant another palm tree…

Her marker swept down and crossed out the illustrated flower next to the suggestion.

 _Join a local sports team._ Interacting with new people…no. The point was to grow closer to Krillin, not make nice with strangers. She crossed through that one as well.

 _Photography_ …much too expensive unless she shoplifted a camera. But the thought of Krillin's disappointment squelched the idea. She desired his respect as much as his affection, and though she might joke about it, she had changed. Whatever drove her and her brother to terrorize society in the past was no longer a part of her. She started to mark another X but paused.

Pictures of Krillin's friends decorated the walls of his room. Eighteen even allowed him to add a few snapshots of her to his collection, pretending to be annoyed as he took them. A few more on display—ones where she actually smiled—would be gratifying. Krillin borrowed the camera he used to take those photos. They could always ask to borrow it again. She circled the suggestion and drew a question mark next to it.

 _Walk or hike._ Again, limited real estate. Though she had spied a few decent parks while flying over nearby islands.

 _Stargazing._ Lying on the roof and watching the stars—that could work. It would be a good time to talk, and if she worked up the courage, to lay her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, wait for it to steady, and then raise her mouth for a kiss. Was it getting hot in here?

 _PJ Day. Spend the entire day in your pajamas._ Eighteen twisted her face. How was that an activity?

 _Camping. A sleeping bag for two._ Hmm…

 _Have sex!_ Her cheeks burned. Did they need to be so blunt? Well, eventually, if it worked out between them, she'd love to. A memory surfaced of the last time she saw Krillin shirtless in the surf. Definitely love to. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned the fan to high. It _was_ getting hot.

With her marker poised to strike, she read the next suggestion. Her hand stayed put. That…actually sounded perfect. If Krillin went for it.

Through the window, she could see him, and Yamcha, approaching over the horizon. Closing the magazine and capping the marker, she shut them in her desk drawer and hurried downstairs. Best ask now before she lost her nerve.

Arms crossed over her chest, she watched Krillin land, her instinct to blurt out what she had in mind undermined by the other man's presence. Krillin stammered out a greeting. For some reason, he seemed as nervous as she. Was she putting out a bad vibe?

No matter; it was now or never. "I want—"

"Eighteen—"

They shared a smile over interrupting one another.

"You first," he said.

"I want to ask you something."

"A-all right."

She cut her eyes at Yamcha, her stare menacing.

He rubbed the back of his head and laughed nervously. "Guess I'll let the two of you talk." To Krillin, he said, "Does Friday night work for you?"

"I'll call when I know for certain."

"Friday?" Eighteen questioned once Yamcha flew away. That was the day she intended to ask Krillin out. "What's Friday?"

Krillin took a deep breath. "That's what I wanted to ask you about. But you were—"

"No, go ahead."

"Thanks. Um, Yamcha and I are planning to host a game night—cards, board games, that sort of thing—and invite a few people over. Our group used to hold them years ago but sort of fell out of the habit."

"You want to hold it here—on Friday?" Great, there went her plans. Though it wasn't Krillin's intent, she couldn't help feeling rejected. It was a new feeling, and she didn't like it. "I guess I can find somewhere to spend the evening."

"No!" he shouted, then added more quietly, "No, we—I want you to—if you don't mind—to take part. _Be_ my partner, actually. We usually play teams, and well…"

"Partner, huh?" Was Krillin asking her on a date? It wasn't exactly dinner and a movie, or even the activity she planned. But a low-key evening with a group they already knew could help ease them into a dating relationship. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"Of course, if you're not interested or if you already have plans—" Krillin's brows furrowed.

"Yes."

"Yes, you have plans?"

"Yes, I'll be your partner." She fought and failed to keep the silly grin off her face. "Who knows? It could be fun."

Krillin looked relieved, though he averted his gaze and blushed when their eyes met. Had asking her out been _that_ intimidating?

"Oh," he said suddenly. "You wanted to ask me something."

"It can wait." Eighteen beckoned him to accompany her into the house, bumping his shoulder playfully as he came alongside her. "So, _partner_ , what games are we playing?"

In response, Krillin only smiled.

* * *

 _ **TBC**_

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_

 _ **Any suggestions about what games should be at game night? I'm looking for games that will frustrate and annoy the players.**_

 _ **Note:** Activity suggestions for this chapter were taken from the blog article: _

www dot fatwallet dot com /blog/25-hobbies-and-activities-for-budget-minded-couples


	2. The Article, Part 2

_Yesterday, I received a promotion at work. My new position has a lot more responsibility and a not-insignificant pay bump. To celebrate, here is a long overdue chapter of Kame Island Romance: The Article. This one is entirely from Krillin's point-of-view._

* * *

 _Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended._

 **Kame Island Romance**

 **By koinekid**

 **1\. The Article**

 ** _Part 2_**

"We could bribe them," Yamcha suggested.

"With what?" Krillin said. "I spent all my cash on snacks for tonight."

As Yamcha fished his pocket for his wallet, Krillin watched his roommates help themselves to another bag of pretzels meant for his guests. All day long, Roshi and Oolong parked in front of the television, consuming their usual fare and evading questions about their plans for the evening.

The TV didn't bother him. Krillin tuned it out while he and Eighteen busied themselves in the kitchen, working through a stack of board games he dug out of the closet on Wednesday. Since partnering up, she insisted they dedicate every spare moment to "training" for game night. And because Eighteen required so little sleep, she had plenty of moments to spare. Krillin on the other hand…

Following hours of nonstop gameplay that first night, his yawning became too conspicuous to hide. Eighteen, looking abashed, rose from the table without warning. Krillin worried he had offended her, but before he could apologize, she returned and set a mug of instant coffee in front of him. Touched by her simple (and unprecedented) gesture, he wasted no time raising the mug to his lips.

The coffee tasted awful. Eighteen spooned in too many granules and underheated the water. But Krillin drained the cup anyway, and the caffeine kept him awake long enough for Eighteen to earn her first Scrabble victory. Witnessing her genuine delight at finally beating him was worth losing a few hours' sleep, and though he probably should have discouraged her gloating, he couldn't suppress a grin as she pumped her fist in celebration.

Thursday morning, he found her at the table studying the printed instructions for the games they had yet to play. He sensed her impatience to continue, but she didn't press, and he thanked her with a modest breakfast of cereal and juice. No coffee. By the time their bleary-eyed roommates joined them, Eighteen was setting up for Monopoly.

Her preemptive glare silenced any of their potential complaints—at least about the game board. Roshi finally got around to spot-checking the previous day's grocery receipt and grilled her about the purchase of a certain magazine. Eighteen cooly suggested he regard such expenses as her delivery fee.

Friday afternoon brought another interruption as Yamcha arrived to pick up Krillin for a trip to the supermarket. The two had agreed to shop for snacks and talk strategy in the hours prior to the event. Eighteen wasn't pleased and told Krillin to hurry back, taking his hand and slipping him her store discount card and a couple of capsules.

He tried to avoid reading too much into her actions: a hasty return meant more time to practice before their guests arrived; the card directed them to the market nearest the island; the capsules enabled them to fly rather than take the slower air car. And the fact that she held his hand longer than necessary with her thumb ever so slightly stroking his palm?

"She digs you, bro," Yamcha insisted on the way to the market, and Krillin was starting to believe him. At the very least, he intended to give the mystery guy she was dating the fight of his life.

Back home, while Yamcha negotiated with Roshi and Oolong, Krillin wandered to the doorway separating the living room from the kitchen. He found Eighteen as he left her, leaning against the table and shuffling a deck of cards. With a crook of her finger, she beckoned him to join her.

"I should stay close in case Yamcha needs backup." He gestured to the living room.

"You _could_ do that." Eighteen nodded, her pearl drop earrings dancing with the movement. She had forgone her usual hoops for a pair matching her favorite necklace. "Or you could let the ballplayer handle the pervs and hang out here. Assuming you aren't sick of me."

He gave her his best you-must-be-kidding-me look. "Never."

"Are you sure? We've spent a lot of time together lately."

"And I wouldn't trade a minute of it."

A smile blossomed on Eighteen's face, and Krillin found himself struck by her beauty. Never unattractive, she had taken special care with her appearance tonight, ditching her usual blue denim and opting for a pink sweater and black slacks. It was the most overtly feminine outfit he'd ever seen her wear, and he took satisfaction that she chose it for an event _he_ asked her to attend.

"Eighteen?"

"Yes, Krillin?" She set down the cards.

"You look—" He cataloged the words he wanted to use—gorgeous, breathtaking, perfect—before settling on— "beautiful. I just thought you should know."

She murmured a thank-you so quiet he almost missed it. But the rosy hue of her cheeks said what her voice could not.

The whole scheme of game night seemed suddenly foolish to Krillin. He should tell Eighteen how he felt and let the pieces fall where they may. What's the worst that could happen?

She could reject him, storm out, and move in with her ridiculously rich, six-foot-tall boyfriend.

No, something in that moment told Krillin that's not at all what would occur.

He opened his mouth to speak when the voices from the living room reached a new volume. Before he could stop himself, he glanced back.

Soft laughter drew his attention to Eighteen. "Sounds like someone needs backup. Better go rescue him, hero."

Krillin shook his head. "No, you were right. Yamcha can handle himself. I—"

"You would never abandon a friend, Krillin. I know that firsthand, and it's one of the things I admire most about you."

"But—"

"I'll be here when you get back. Now, go before I change my mind."

He wanted to plow ahead and reveal his feelings, but Eighteen was paying him a huge compliment. The last thing he should do was prove her wrong by leaving a friend to fend for himself—even if that friend would agree with his decision.

"Krillin," she called out as he headed for the door. "I just wanted to say that you...look good too."

Glancing down at the khakis and blue Oxford he changed into upon his return from the market, he shrugged. "Clothes make the man."

She bit her lip."I wasn't talking about the clothes."

As he blinked in surprise, she seated herself at the table and began an intense study of her deck of playing cards. He recalled one of their Scrabble rounds from a couple of days ago. During gameplay, he caught her staring at him more than once. Whenever he met her gaze, her eyes dropped to study the letter tiles on her rack with as much attention as she now gave the cards. At the time, he thought she was searching for a tell on what passed for his poker face. What if she was just staring because...?

Because...

He entered the living room with a bounce to his step. _She thinks I'm handsome. She actually thinks—_

Yamcha's growl of frustration interrupted Krillin's thoughts. Any progress his friend had made on getting the others out the door was apparently quite minimal.

"Come on, guys," Yamcha said. "I already gave you enough for a decent meal."

Roshi shook his head. "It isn't every day one of my beloved students declares his intent for a gorgeous babe. This demands a five-star restaurant."

"You told them!" Krillin said.

"He sure did," Oolong replied. "And we're holding a celebration in your honor. Got any singles?"

Krillin glared at Yamcha.

"Sorry, bro. They wouldn't even consider leaving without an explanation."

"It's not like it's much of a shock." Oolong snorted. "The way you two are mooning over one another lately...it's frankly disgusting."

Roshi leaped off the couch and threw an arm around Krillin. "My boy, I'm proud of you. It's about time you made a move, and you couldn't find a better girl if you asked the dragon for one."

"Master, is your hand in my pocket?"

"I, er—"

"If you're looking for my wallet, as I told you earlier, I spent all my money on those snacks you two have been shoveling in. I'm tapped."

" _All_ of it?"

"All of it."

"Well, good luck, boy." Roshi hopped back on the couch.

Krillin looked to Yamcha, who sighed and over-dramatically retrieved the wallet from his pocket. Roshi stood in front of him in a heartbeat, palm extended, and Yamcha handed over a fistful of zenni. Oolong replaced Roshi a moment later.

"That was for both of you," Yamcha protested, but the pig only made a gimme motion.

"And we'll need a ride to the mainland," Oolong said. "The old man lost the capsule containing our air car."

"Fine, fine," Yamcha said. "I have to pick up my date anyway." To himself, he muttered, "And stop by an ATM." At Roshi and Oolong's excited looks, he amended, " _After_ I drop off you two."

As Yamcha started to lead his entourage out of the living room, Krillin thought he spied a flash of blonde hair in the doorway. He narrowed his eyes, but as he entered the kitchen, he found Eighteen seated at the table exactly as he left her. She looked as if she hadn't moved a centimeter.

On his way past, Yamcha paused at the table. "Eighteen, would you mind helping Krillin set up for game night. I'd do it myself but I've been corralled into playing chauffeur."

Eighteen rolled her eyes. "Why not? I thought I was a guest, but apparently I'm a host as well."

"You're a lifesaver," he said. "I should be back before the others arrive. You two behave yourselves in the meantime."

He winked at Krillin, and Roshi offered a thumbs-up as they departed.

When the door closed, Krillin came to stand next to Eighteen. He debated asking what she overheard but figured she would bring it up if she wanted to. Forcing the issue would only lead to an awkward conversation. He also abandoned the notion of confessing his feelings. For now, the moment had passed.

"You don't really have to help set up," he said. "I can manage by myself."

Her irritated brow smoothed. "I don't mind. Kame House is my home too, and how it looks reflects on me."

"Thanks." Something clicked into place for Krillin. "Hey, you were just giving Yamcha a hard time, weren't you?"

She shrugged. "Can't have our friends thinking I've grown soft."

"You? Impossible. One of us has to be the badass."

"One of _us_?"

"Uh, I—I mean..."

"I like that. We are partners, after all."

He offered a hand. "Well then, partner, care to join me in whipping this place into shape?"

She placed her hand in his. "Krillin, I'm all yours."

* * *

 _ **To be continued**_

 _ **Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated.**_


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